


Profiler, Interrupted

by wednesdays__child



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mental Breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 12:16:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10334438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesdays__child/pseuds/wednesdays__child
Summary: Jennifer looked down at the file before her. It was impressive - honestly. Even after all this time, Hotch still did the best paperwork, was able to create the most thorough files. She paged through each meticulously detailed form, full instructions listed for the attorney Hotch was sure could release Spencer.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for up through Season 12 episode 16 Assistance is Futile - although you really don't need to have watched much of Season 12 for this fic. Just the knowledge that Spencer is in prison is enough.
> 
> Unbetaed - sorry. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

_The mind is the most capricious of insects - flitting, fluttering. - Virginia Wolff_

*************

Jennifer Jareau sighed as she stepped up to the door. She knew this was necessary, that she was needed here, that Hotch needed her. 

I didn't make it any easier.

Plastering a smile on her face, she knocked.

The door opened quickly and Jack's smiling face beamed back at her. "Hi Miss Jennifer," he greeted before moving aside to let her enter. 

"Hi Jack," she replied. "It's good to see you again."

"Jennifer," Hotch called out warmly, standing quickly and making his way over to the small blonde woman. He enveloped her in a warm hug. "Thank you so much for coming. I know this is difficult. I can't imagine the strings that you and Garcia had to pull to make this happen. Being in Federally mandated WitSec makes it pretty rough to get around regulations. I'm sorry you had to come all the way out here just to see me."

JJ flinched slightly.

"It's not a problem, Hotch. I understand you have something for me?"

"Yes!" the former Unit Chief cried, nearly jumping before rushing back to the small table by the window. "Jack? Do you think you can give me some time with Miss Jennifer. We won't be long and I can help you with your homework after if you want."

"Sounds good, Dad," Jack replied. "I'll just go outside for a bit."

"Don't wander off too far and take your phone."

"Okay, Dad."

Aaron shook his head before looking up at her again. "I still worry, you know. I know we are safe here, that we are always under surveillance, but I still worry."

"You're his Dad. Of course you worry."

He smiled then, something small and sad, gripping her hand firmly before sitting down in front of the file on the table. "I knew you'd understand, being the mom of two beautiful boys yourself."

She flinched again. Hotch missed it.

She slipped into the seat opposite him and sighed. "So? What do you have for me, Hotch?"

"I've been thinking about Spencer."

"Spencer?!" she gasped, barely able to keep her voice down.

"Yeah, and I'm worried about the attorney handling his case. I know she's a friend of Emily's but I don't really think she's doing him any good. There are so many other things she needs to be doing to help him with his murder defense."

Jennifer shook her head. "What can she be doing that she hasn't already done?"

Hotch snorted at that. "There is so much to do!" he exclaimed, throwing open the file before him. "First, she needs to file for a change of venue. That judge is obviously biased against Spencer or the FBI or the BAU, I'm not sure which, but there is nothing with the case that would indicate that Spencer should be held in a Federal Prison. It's ludicrous. We'll try to move him to a smaller jail in upstate Virginia and make sure he is in Protective Custody. There is absolutely no reason he should be in GenPop.  
"Next, she should file the proper documents to get an independent examination done, first on both his blood and urine for toxicological studies. In fact, I can't believe they haven't done a hair test at this point. If this is Mr. Scratch, he's not going to use normal drugs that will show up on a standard screening. Second, there should be an independent autopsy done on the victim. Garcia should be able to locate a reputable agency that hasn't been compromised.

"I've included all the paperwork and language she will need to make sure this is all filed correctly. Please JJ, you have to make sure that this gets done. We have to get Spencer out of prison before he gets hurt again. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to him."

Jennifer looked down at the file before her. It was impressive - honestly. Even after all this time, Hotch still did the best paperwork, was able to create the most thorough files. She paged through each meticulously detailed form, full instructions listed for the attorney Hotch was sure could release Spencer. 

"I'll take care of it, Hotch," she whispered, closing the file and leaning forward to rest a hand across Aaron's own. He smiled at her then, a knowing look that said he trusted her. It nearly broke her heart. They talked for a few moments then - Hotch asking about everyone. He wanted to know about her boys and Morgan's son. She answered as best as she could, happy to see the man smile when she talked about the children and the rest of team. They talked for a long while and it seemed almost like old times. 

"I'd better get going," she said as she stood, clutching the file to her chest. "I have to get back to town and pick up Henry at school."

"Jennifer?" Hotch stopped her with a gentle touch to her shoulder.

"Yeah, Hotch?"

"Can you do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Next time you see Spencer, will you tell him I miss him?" the older profiler whispered, his voice soft, shaky, nearly broken. "It feels like forever since I saw him. I know we were just starting a relationship but..." he blushed, actually blushed, "...I think about him all the time. Let him know that after he gets out of prison and all of this is over, I want him to come find me. I want us to be a family."

Tears slowly flowed down her cheeks. She moved to wipe them away when Hotch reached up and brushed them with his thumbs. "Don't be sad, JJ. It's hard for me too but this will all be over soon. Spencer will be found innocent, you guys will find Mr. Scratch and then things can go back to the way they were before. Please don't cry."

Jennifer smiled softly. "I can't help it, Hotch. I just want to see you happy." She reached out and took his hard, squeezing tightly. He smiled back as he gathered her into his arms, hugging her close.

"Okay, you'd better go," Hotch whispered in her hair. "And be sure to give Spencer the message."

"I will, Hotch. I will."

He escorted her to the door, as if she expected anything less from the proper Southern gentleman, waving lightly as she walked away. Jack slipped in next to his dad, calling out a goodbye to her as he closed the door behind him. Jennifer stood in the long, brightly lit hallway, watching the staff milling around. Jessica approached her then, smiling lightly before pulling her into a hug.

"Thank you for coming," Jessica said as she pulled away. "I know this is hard on you but when Aaron started asking for you, I knew I needed to call."

"I told you, it's not a problem, Jessica," Jennifer said with a sad smile on her face. "I mean it. I'll always come when he needs me. It's not an issue."

"You don't know how much that means," Jessica said, wiping the wetness from her cheeks. "Are we still on for Saturday?"

"Yes. Bring Jack over around ten. We're heading to the zoo by eleven. Henry's excited. He misses everyone."

"So does Jack. This has been so hard on him."

"I can't imagine," she whispered. She pulled the other woman into another tight hug before quickly stepping away and turning toward the exit. "See you then."

Walking out into the blinding sunlight, JJ squinted behind her sunglasses, pretending it was the bright light that brought the tears to her eyes, not the awful horribleness of the situation. She waited until she got to her car before she broke down, weeping in huge sobbing gasps. Even after all of this time, it all hurt so much. Once she was able to get herself under control, she looked at the file again.

She couldn't believe that Hotch thought that Spencer was in prison. The ridiculousness of it would be funny if it wasn't surrounded by such tragedy. She looked at the box full of files. Files that Hotch had meticulously prepared for her. 

The first time she'd gotten the call, she'd been shocked. Jessica Brooks had never contacted her before and to get a message that Hotch needed her so he could present a case was beyond anything JJ could ever imagine. Not here. Not now. 

And yet, she'd gone. He'd presented the case and then the case file with all the details - every form filled out in Aaron's tight, neat script and the FBI logo expertly sketched on the cover under the title of Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Of course there was no case. No Unsub. No team to save the day. Not anymore.

They had all been destroyed that awful day when Mr. Scratch took them all away.

All the doctors, the therapists, everyone had agreed that it was a miracle Hotch was still even alive much less coherent. Any lesser person would be completely comatose, possibly even braindead after three full doses of the drug. But Hotch was alive, aware, but in a much different reality from everyone else. His mind had fractured, between the drug and watching nearly all of his team murdered in front him, Aaron never stood a chance. 

They'd rushed the house while Hotch lay paralyzed on the floor, the drug keeping him frozen in Mr. Scratch's clutches. Peter Lewis had stolen Hotch's gun and systematically murdered his team - Spencer first with a shot to the head, destroying his more powerful weapon, before shooting both Morgan and Rossi in the neck, ensuring they would both bleed out before even the most skilled paramedic could save them. Hotch had struggled to break free of the hallucinogens hold, pulling his secondary Glock from his ankle holster. He turned to shoot, turning behind himself, thinking he was taking out Mr. Scratch. Unfortunately it had been her, come up behind Hotch to check on him. She had taken a shot to the abdomen and collapsed on the floor.

As the sirens blared and the EMS vehicles pulled up, she heard Aaron talking, recanting the story, slowly, methodically to Morgan who simply stared at him with cold, dead eyes. 

"He made me see things," he'd whispered to the dead profiler. "I can't...it doesn't...part of it doesn't make sense to me." Finally he clearly declared, "This is what happened." JJ listened to that shaky voice that told her that Hotch recalled everything but he believed everything he had seen was all a hallucination. 

She looked at the files in the box in the seat next to her, full of files from Hotch, files for cases that didn't exist. His mind created them as he struggled to believe his team was still alive, that he wasn't living his life in a psychiatric hospital.

First a vigilante who had suffered a psychological break.

Then a ring of serial killers that had bought Kate Callahan's niece.

The cases got more extreme, more unlikely, proving the complete break from reality that had become Hotch's mind. 

A hitman who painted his victim's faces. Sarin gas attacks. Brides-to-be murdered by a delusional young woman. A street artist incorporating victims into the installations. Corruption in the NSA. A man mutilating women to look like his dead girlfriend. 

The cases got increasingly more complicated and unbelievable. 

Next, Garcia was targeted by the team of hitmen that had already been put away because she had done a Google search. The "Dirty Dozen" Hotch had called her and he had her placed in Protective Custody inside Quantico. That one had baffled JJ. The government would never let someone live inside their offices. It just showed how fractured his mind had become. Then Spencer went undercover to try and flush out the members of the circle of hitmen. It was like a bad television show.

Then there was their personal lives. Hotch had given everyone some family - all except the new team member he'd created. Tara Lewis - the name was not lost on JJ - was the perfect addition to the team. Hotch had beamed when he told JJ about her. Of course, she was a fabrication of Hotch himself - a professional no longer satisfied with trying to help after the monsters were caught, now intent on catching them before instead. Derek married Savannah and had a child - Hank Spencer - possibly the most ill-conceived name ever. Of course, that only happened after Derek had been monstrously tortured and nearly killed. Rossi gained a grown daughter and grandson he never knew he had and a renewed relationship with his second ex-wife. JJ herself had another boy, Michael. Every time Hotch asked about him, she felt sick. She had been pregnant, too early along to know what it was, but she had lost the baby when Hotch shot her, tearing her womb in two. Spencer had even been able to spend time with his mother in Europe, helping her before she went into a clinical study for alzheimer's even though the woman had quickly declined before passing away after hearing about Spencer's death. He even brought Emily back into the fold despite the fact that she was happy and doing well at Interpol.

The one thing she would never know whether it was true or not was Hotch's relationship with Spencer. Aaron claimed that he and Spencer had started a relationship, just beginning to admit their feelings for one another. According to the former agent, they had gone out on several dates, had started hanging out and even kissed. Jack confirmed that they had been spending more time together, that Spencer came over for dinner and movie night but he'd never seen anything overtly romantic between them. But knowing Hotch and Spence, that didn't really surprise her.

Aaron was happy in his little world, working cases and giving everyone happy lives, all the while giving them just enough pain and torture that it didn't seem too idyllic. But the cases became more and more fantastical, so unbelievable that even Aaron's fractured mind couldn't hold on to the fantasy anymore.

He dreamed up Antonia Slade, a criminal mastermind in prison, who targeted Hotch and the entire BAU. Thirteen serial killers escaped and then, when he put Jack in danger as he was arrested by the DOJ, it was too much for his mind to handle and he told Jennifer about how he had to leave the BAU, had to go into WitSec to hide from Mr. Scratch. She thought then, maybe then they would be done.

But even in this fractured state, Aaron couldn't leave Spencer alone. He put him in peril again, this time in prison after murdering someone in Mexico. She wondered how long it would be before she'd get another call, another file, something else from Hotch's fevered brain that she needed to take care of for him.

She looked over at the box of files. So much work, all to keep Hotch from facing the truth - that they were dead, all three of them - and Scratch was still out there, haunting the world. She kept them at her home, never showing them to anyone at the FBI. Not that it mattered since she didn't work there anymore. It had been too painful to even try to become a part of another team. There would never be another team for her. She'd gone back to the State Department and she welcomed the change. Will had suggested they move back to New Orleans, a new start and all that. But she couldn't leave Hotch, not like this. He needed to see her, to present his cases and give his help to his team members long since dead. She needed to be here for Jack.

Garcia came by occasionally as well although seeing the former Unit Chief was all the more traumatizing for the technical analyst. Penelope had moved on too, now working for a large securities firm, but she remained to help Hotch and Jack and Jessica, just like Jennifer.

JJ sighed, finally having cried herself out. She took the file and placed it in the box before replacing the lid. One more file. One more lie.

She looked up at the imposing buildings of Saint Elizabeth's Hospital, wondering if her former boss would ever be able to leave or if he would forever be trapped in this world of his own making - this world that Scratch built.

_Men are not prisoners of fate, but prisoners of their own minds. - Franklin D. Roosevelt_

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> I'm having a rough time. A challenge of sorts was issued. Karl gave me this.
> 
> Based partially off the episode "Normal Again" from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.


End file.
